Tag: speaking

No matter what I say or how I say it, it all falls short. Pouring out my heart, opening doors to vulnerability, I wrestle with every phrase and every word, hoping to position every thought as best I can do. I want nothing more than for you to understand and receive me as a blessing. What Grace has done in me, I can’t contain. The revelation of Jesus that has confronted my heart has left me forever changed. There are rampant religious evils I simply can’t ignore nor be silent as they have their way—destroying good people.

You’re right, I’m taking a path largely untraveled. I’m giving voice where there has been little to no voice before. I’m swimming against long-held beliefs and the tsunami of right-wing Christianity, and daring to stand up for things many have long been standing against.

No, I don’t expect it to be easy, nor do I harbor an adversity to opposing views. I’m not asking you to agree with me, nor render your stamp of approval. I entertain no delusions, for you won’t be anointing me with oil any time soon—perhaps it’s crossed your mind that a dose of lighter fluid might better suit.

I get it, I understand. These are changing times, and so much of our identities, perceptions, and beliefs are in the balance.

When I first was collided with the truth of my religious spirit and the legalistic faith that birthed it, I was shaken to the core and rebelled with every right-wing conservative Christian fiber within me. I’m not saying I’m right or have all the answers, but I am saying that my heart knows perhaps no greater frustration than when it becomes all too clear, I just can’t win with you.

Please know this, and know it for sure, it’s not for lack of trying and having a soul that desires to.

It seems that when I speak strongly with passion and angst, then somehow I’m being far too abrasive—stepping on feet with too heavy a weight. But then, when I speak softly with tenderness and grace, somehow I’m not speaking strong enough—allowing evil to see the light of day. If I try to land it down the middle, I’m a disappointment to everyone. If I paint with broad strokes, I’m not being surgical enough. If I get specific, I’m being too harsh and insensitive. If I don’t respond, but simply let you share you views, I’m being a callous hypocrite by not engaging you. If I step into the ring and go a few rounds, I’m now deemed a bully who just likes to argue my heretical, unbiblical views. If I don’t walk in perfect step on the path of your ideology and tone preferences, you’re quick to pull me over and write me a scolding ticket.

You gaslight the crap out me but then protest when I don’t rush to cozy up. You troll my life hunting for a debate, cocked with loaded questions for which you’re conveniently convinced you already hold all the answers. Yet, you get offended when I don’t get sucked in or I block you all together—labeling me a fake. You hyper-analyze my every move and step, filling in the blanks with the very worst of assumption and intentions. It’s like you’re determined to misunderstand me no matter how clear or bright shines my light—deflecting seems to be your go-to method.

Sure, I could always say, believe, and handle things better—that’s a given. But, none of that matters, for it seems no matter what, I can’t win.

So, here’s the real kicker—the revelation in it all.

For who would I have to become, what would have to believe, and what would I have to do to be accepted, affirmed, and deemed worthy of your gleam? What kind of surrender and conformity would that transformation require?

With deep love and all due respect, as much as I wish I could win with you, there’s a very real part of me that’s growing more and more thankful—that I can’t. For I have this deep sense within me, I wouldn’t like the person I would have to become for that wish to be granted—nor would Jesus. My sense is this, He created me to be a person not a puppet.

Instead, here’s my plan, a kind of manifesto. I’m going to speak my truth—I’m going to say it exactly the way I want to say it, no holds barred. No shackles, mute buttons, shrinking back, curling up in the fetal position, or editorializing my heart.

Come hell or high water, fame or loneliness, though maybe I can’t win with you—I am awakened and determined, I will win at speaking and living my truth.

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I learned early on in ministry that activity does not necessarily equate to accomplishment. You can be busy doing lots of things all while getting absolutely nowhere of value.

The same is true in the Christian life, we can find ourselves spending a lot of time doing spiritual-looking activities yet accomplishing very little of Kingdom worth, internally within ourselves and externally. Unfortunately, the same Grace that saved us is often not seen as the same Grace that sustains and grows us. Somehow we have come to believe the idea that at the very least, a bit of the flesh is necessary to somehow improve our lives. So, we work, strive, and try to perform our way to a better life.

Yet, if you are like many Christians, you are secretly frustrated. Though you might never give it a public voice, your inner thoughts are haunted by the conclusion that all these spiritual gymnastics you have been doing and performing aren’t improving one thing. You are tired, exhausted, and wonder deep down, “what’s wrong with me?” I am doing my best only to still be stressed.

The truth is, what releases God’s activity in and through your life is your faith, not your striving. In fact, the same efforts we think that our progressing God’s work in us can be the very same ones that are blocking it.

Yet, at the same time, we can have tons of faith within us, but we aren’t we releasing that faith to work on our behalf. We can become like loaded guns, we have a lot of faith ready to go, but it’s not being released. So, what releases our faith? Most Christians would answer with something like… “my obedience,” “my efforts,” or “my faithfulness.” But those are all centered on our performance, they are types of “work.” And unfortunately, they are activities (as important as they are) that don’t accomplish much.

For God, ironically, “speaking” is His work. In Genesis chapter 1, God creates the entire world into being through speaking, not doing. What works for God is what God wants to work for us. Speaking is a release of our faith that accomplishing more than our efforts ever could. In fact, that which is His work (speaking), is really not work.

Under the new Covenant of Grace (brought through Jesus), speaking is the new doing. Why is this? Because under the new Covenant, believers are Kings and Priests.

And have made us kings and priests to our God; And we shall reign on the earth. Revelation 5:10

Slaves and servants don’t speak much, and if they do, it’s always in response to their circumstances. Yet, by the way we speak and don’t speak as Christians, you would think we were still slaves. “I am not good enough,” “This is impossible,” “Things will never work out,” “I am a failure.” And then we wonder why we aren’t reigning in life.

However, we as Christians are not slaves and servants, we are Kings and Priests unto God. Kings and Priests us words to alter circumstances and change their future, not merely respond to it. Indeed, speaking is the new doing. In the Kingdom system of life, what you speak is what you get, not in contradiction to God’s will but in the flow of His favor. Speaking is the secret weapon of our faith, not doing.

Never underestimate the power speaking out loud. The most important proclamation your faith needs to hear is your own. It’s one thing to have faith within your thoughts, but speaking is what releases that faith. Change your self talk and start speaking words of faith verbally out loud, and watch your life change. No, I am not talking about sharing your faith, I am talking about confessing the Word and the promises of God, along with your words of faith, audibly to yourself. It’s not work, it’s releasing your faith to work.